


Retrospect

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-01
Updated: 2006-09-01
Packaged: 2019-01-19 02:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12401655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Andromeda, on Sirius before and after Azkaban. Because people change over time. Oneshot.





	Retrospect

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**Retrospect**

The last time she saw her cousin, he was covered in rain and mud and sweat and tears. She didn’t ask where he came from, or why he was so dirty, just handed over a towel and pointed him to the bathroom, pretending not to hear his mumbling of this is why you’re my favorite cousin.

You don’t ask questions.

She supposes that she wonders, always about him, why he did the things he did, but everyone else asked him that and they never got a straight answer, so she figures it’s just not worth the time. He must have thought that she respected his privacy, but really, she just couldn’t be bothered. He wasn’t going to answer her anyway, so may as well just hand him a towel and show him to the shower and leave it at that. That’s what family is for, right?

She wonders now, in retrospect, why he came to her doorstep and not his friends’. One was in hiding, that she knew, but he had more than one friend, didn’t he? But it was a question she didn’t think to ask then, and now never will.

\--

When she saw the newspapers screaming murderer and death eater and insane, she wasn’t entirely sure that she didn’t believe them. Every little piece of humanity in her was screaming, _Sirius?_ Of course _Sirius_ isn’t a death eater – he’s the most anti-death eater person she knows, but…

But the last time she saw him, all muddy and crying and worried and relieved that she didn’t ask why still lingered, and she couldn’t quite get over the wondering. She knew, better than anyone, that their family had a streak of madness, and Sirius had a penchant for the rash and unthinkable. It’d be just like him to run into something headfirst and bother the consequences later.

But Sirius, a death eater? Not possible, right? It was easy to believe when she focused on the Sirius that she knew, until she realized that she didn’t really know him at all.

\-- 

The last time she saw him, dripping and muddy and kind of gross, he looked so defeated. He muttered something about being okay when she handed him a cup of hot chocolate and a sugar cookie (because she knew how much he liked those, even if he wouldn’t admit it anymore and didn’t acknowledge it until he was about to leave), and she had to wonder where energetic, optimistic Sirius had run off to.

The last time she saw him, she could have sworn he was hiding something, and that he wasn’t really okay like he said, but she didn’t want to ask him because he liked that she didn’t and she’d rather deal with uncomfortable silence than uncomfortable lies.

She couldn’t remember ever having felt like that before and she knew that it was a very Black decision and that sort of scared her at the time. It still does.  
  
The last time she saw her other cousin, Regulus, the little king, as Uncle Orion was so fond of saying, he had that same defeated look in his eyes, that same torn up worry. He didn’t seek her out, and she didn’t go looking for him – they ran into each other in the little café near Flourish and Blotts and he sort of froze for a second and didn’t quite wave, rather just lifted a hand and nodded at her presence.

She remembers thinking that he looked like he wanted to run up to her and give her a big hug like he used to, but just couldn’t be bothered.

\-- 

She thinks, now, in retrospect, that they aren’t all that different – her generation. It’s just that she can still see that sort of beaten-down, ripped apart blankness in both Sirius and Regulus’s eyes, and she knows it’s a familiar scene. It’s the same look that her father used to get when he got frustrated, and her uncle, and her sisters. It’s the same look they all get in their eyes when things just aren’t going right.

And they really aren’t all that different – Sirius and Regulus and her – just a group of kids trying to get by, and making some crippling mistakes along the way. But that’s okay, right? Because they’ve all made the mistakes themselves, and that was the whole point of running away, or joining with the family.

It was a mistake to blast off on a whim and tell them where they could shove their pureblood prejudices, yes, but she made it all the same and they’re her consequences.

She wonders, now, if Sirius ever thought that.

She knows Regulus didn’t. He was never quite so content with his failure.

She thinks, now, that that’s what made Regulus different – because he was the different one, not Sirius. Sirius was the rebel, the wannabe revolutionary who didn’t know what the hell he was fighting for, not really. But Regulus knew what he wanted, even if he didn’t know how to get it, and that’s what set him apart from all of them.

Because at least Regulus was honest about his ignorance and confusion, and never tried to hide it. She knows it made him different, but she isn’t sure that’s any better. In retrospect, she thinks that it was Regulus who could have changed the world, not Sirius.

And she thinks, now, that Sirius must have known that, and it must have infuriated him.  


\-- 

He always was a little crazier than the rest of them.  


\-- 

She wonders, with bitter half-contempt, if he’s cold in Azkaban, but can’t quite force the venom. Something about Sirius, cold and wet and half-insane scares her. He isn’t supposed to be like that, he was supposed to be the one to escape, because isn’t that why he ran off and started his own life in the first place?

She wonders if he didn’t succeed after all.  


\-- 

It’s a windy but clear day when she sees the newspapers screaming escape from Azkaban, and far from worry, she thinks sardonically – only Sirius. She knows beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt that he won’t get caught and that he won’t come visit her. He’ll have other things on his mind – what, she doesn’t know, and wouldn’t ask even if she could – and won’t remember to visit his last (and only) civil relative.

She doesn’t wonder why because the reason should be obvious, but she knows it’s not. With Sirius, one always has to wonder why – as long as she’s known him, he’s had ulterior motives underneath some other, more clear reason. She guesses that it’s just by now, after so long of ignoring it, she can’t be bothered with wondering why and it sort of worries her because she’s supposed to be the only one who cares.

Only now, 12 years after the last time she saw him, she doesn’t.  


\-- 

She doesn’t care to know the post-Azkaban Sirius, choosing instead to dwell on the muddy and tearful and grateful Sirius from the last time she ever saw him, preferring the dirty, barely-held-together recollection to the dirty, shattered man he will be now.

She supposes it’s the difference between slightly cracked and dripping. The naked eye doesn’t always see the distinction, but when you try to fill it, it… doesn’t work. And that’s all there is to it, really. She never knew him that well to begin with, just her teenage rebel cousin who used to tease her daughter and make stupid jokes every other second.

Now, in retrospect, though, she thinks she knew him best when he stumbled to her door in the rain and covered in mud and sweat and tears and muttered grateful thanks when she shoved a towel in his arms and didn’t ask questions. She knew then that Sirius was so much more – and so much less – than she’d ever really known. It feels, looking back on it, a little like she was being let in on some deep, dark secret, a gossip whisper in the hall – Sirius Black has issues – but everyone knew that, didn’t they?

All the Blacks do. It’s not something people care about, or even deal with.

The headline screams murderer escapes and she throws it away.  


\-- 

Her prediction proves true on both counts, but the triumph is empty.

She can’t quite bring herself to miss him.

-  
 ****  
(A/N: Because people change over time. Review if you like.)  
(and this is supposed to come off choppy and broken. I've been sort of playing around with styles and I just fell in love with this one.) 


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